


Transitions

by beamirang



Series: Genesis [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Crew as Family, Disordered Eating, Explosions, Friendship, Gen, Hurt!Jim, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, POV Multiple, Past Child Abuse, Post-Star Trek (2009), Pre-Star Trek: Into Darkness, Tarsus IV, protective!bones, triumvirate friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-17 12:18:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16095527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beamirang/pseuds/beamirang
Summary: Jim's best laid plans usually had a way of backfiring quite spectacularly.Reposted from FF.net





	1. Uhura

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! First time posting on a new platform and long-time lover of all things Trek! I'm returning to writing and posting after a long, long hiatus and figured I'd start by sprucing up and posting previous pics while I get new updates ready for you. 
> 
> I'm starting with Transitions, which is the first in the series I wrote back in (oh god) 2013. Since the story is already complete I will be posting a new chapter a day until the end of the story, then I'll move on to A Problem From Hell and Acceptable Losses. Once they are all up, I'll start posting Free Radicals and pick up with new chapters from there.   
> There's the best part of 500k of fic to be posted, so hopefully by that point I'll have figured out how things work on A03.
> 
> Notes on the fic: When I originally wrote the series (way back when) I made some decisions which, in hindsight, I might've done differently. For the sake of continuity though, I'm sticking by them. The main one is that Frank, who is described in the cut scenes of the first film as Jim's uncle and the final cut of the film as his step-father. I've gone with uncle. I've also gone down the route of Winona Kirk being out of the picture (though a pretty major plot point in later stories) from Jim's early childhood. I've taken some liberties with characters like Pike, who I establish as knowing Jim from a young age, and Sam Kirk who... well Sam becomes self-explanatory fairly quickly in this fic. I hope the stories stand up on their own despite these changes, and you'll enjoy them regardless. 
> 
> Throughout the entire series there will be some heavy themes explored, including child abuse, genocide and disordered eating. I will be tagging these as we go and will provide extra warnings where necessary.

"Yeoman, do you have a moment?" Alpha shift had ended only minutes ago, but Nyota Uhura had already missed her chance to corner the captain before he shut himself away in his ready room. The Enterprise was undergoing unexpected maintenance at Io Space Station, and Kirk had put off reporting in to the Admiralty for almost a day before they finally managed to pin him down. Uhura had been the one to patch the comm. through before handing over to her relief.

Spock took the Con. for the start of Beta shift. Technically she could go to him for an answer, but she was wary of fueling the gossip mill. The request she had put in to attend a conference at Io Symposium was perfectly regulation, but it had been denied for no apparent reason. She didn't feel comfortable asking Spock for fear of being seen to be abusing her relationship with the First Officer.

Kirk, as contrary and contradictory as he was, could always be counted on for honesty. She might not like his reasons for denying her request, but he'd not lie about them.

But with Kirk shut away for the foreseeable future, there was only one person Uhura could turn to. Janice Rand was Kirk's personal Yeoman. As such, she knew his schedule, prioritized his paperwork, and had more insight into his eccentric thought process than most on board. A quiet and studious woman, she was also McCoy's not so secret weapon – she had been known to bribe, blackmail and bully Kirk into sleeping, eating, and attending his physicals. Uhura admired Rand as much as she pitied her.

Clutching at a stack of PADDs, Rand turned at Uhura's call. "Can I help you with something, Lieutenant?" Even if they weren’t different ranks, Uhura doubted she and Rand would ever call themselves friends. They respected each other professionally but kept different social circles on the ship.

Uhura smiled and took her chance. "I won’t keep you. I know it’s something you might not be involved with, but I sent the Captain a request to attend a xenolinguistics conference this evening. He's usually the one pressing us to pursue our professional development but he denied it. I was curious as to the reasons."

Rand frowned. "I'm sorry Lieutenant, but I don't know anything about it. I can ask him once he is done with Admiral Archer if you like?"

Fighting her disappointment, Uhura shook her head. "No, that's fine. Thank you. Like I said, I was just curious." Curious, and disappointed, not that she’d admit as much. She and Kirk had come a long way since the antagonistic days of the academy, even if they were only a few short months into their postings. Kirk, petty though he could be, wouldn’t refuse her something like this out of spite.

Rand shifted the PADDs in her arms to make them more comfortable, but declined Uhura's offer to help her carry them. "I'm sure the Captain had his reasons. He usually does. Is it an important conference?"

Uhura's shoulders sagged. "Hoshi Sato is speaking about the Xindi dialects and how they can help us better understand the way the Delphic Expanse was used to both protect and isolate the Xindus from outside interference."

Rand shook her head, tolerant but bewildered amusement in her eyes. "I understood _maybe_ a word of that," she said, grinning. "I'm sorry. Hoshi Sato is rather a big deal though, isn't she?"

Only the reason Uhura joined Starfleet in the first place. "She is." The conference was the first – and if rumor had it, last - that Sato had given since retirement. "Never mind."

"I am sorry." Rand looked as if she genuinely was. “I can try talk to him, if you want?”

Uhura smiled and shook her head. "Don't worry. It's alright. Are you sure you don't need a hand carrying those?"

"I'm sure. Enjoy the rest of your day, Lieutenant." Rand turned and collected another two PADDs to add to her pile before letting herself into Kirk's ready room, regardless of the meeting-taking place inside.

Uhura turned her back to the bridge and headed to her quarters. Since she wasn't going to be doing anything tonight, she figured she'd put to use all the water rations she'd been collecting and take a nice long bath. Kirk handed out extra rations for exemplary work and she had amassed a considerable amount. Combined with the fact that she took sonic showers most days, and there was more than enough for a luxurious evening of bubbles and wine.

Slightly cheered at the thought, she made her way to her port side quarters.

Uhura had just pulled herself from the bath when her chime sounded. Hastily wrapping her hair up in a towel and shrugging on a robe, she opened the door.

Kirk was the last person she expected to see.

He stood in the entrance to her room, clad in a perfectly pressed grey dress uniform, cap tucked under one arm and his shoes polished enough to reflect the overhead lighting. He really was disarmingly handsome, and she gawped foolishly in surprise before regaining her equilibrium and inviting him in.

"Captain. What can I do for you?"

Kirk's back was ramrod straight, something that only happened when he was on display, or nervous. It was a small tell, but one she had quickly learned. She frowned at the uncharacteristic nerves. "Actually Lieutenant, I was wondering if you'd do me the honor of accompanying me to the Io Symposium tonight."

Uhura's jaw dropped. "You're kidding, right?"

Kirk blinked. That clearly hadn't been the answer he expected. "Um, no?"

"You denied my request," Uhura pointed out in frustration.

"You didn't have tickets!" Kirk protested. "What were you going to do, watch from the gallery?"

"Yes, actually."

"That's stupid."

_You're stupid,_ she wanted to say. Once again, she was reminded of all the things she'd wanted to strangle Kirk for when they had been students together. He was impossible.

"Do you have a better solution?" She asked him. He outranked her now. Calling him names was not only below her intelligence, but also a disciplinary offense.

"Yes, actually," Kirk huffed. "I was invited."

"You were invited," She echoed blankly. "To a xenolingusitics conference."

"Is that so hard to believe?" Kirk actually pouted at her. She had to resist the urge to say yes, because she knew how smart Kirk actually was and no, it wasn't really a surprise. It was just… "Look," Kirk said patiently, "get dressed and meet me in the transporter room in twenty minutes."

"Is that an order, sir?"

"Does it have to be?" Kirk said in frustration. "I'm actually trying to do something nice here."

He sounded so incredibly put out that she bit back on the instinctual retort. Besides, she really did want to see the conference… "Twenty minutes?"

Kirk relaxed and nodded. "I'll see you there." He left, the door closing silently behind him.

Twenty minutes later, Uhura found him waiting in the transporter room. She'd dressed in her own formal uniform, tight, uncomfortable shoes and all. Her hair had been pulled back and braided away from her face to compensate for the dampness that had not fully dried from the bath. The fact that Kirk had been in her quarters while she wore nothing but a robe and towel and no innuendo had been made was something of a milestone for them.

"Lieutenant." Kirk looked relieved to see her. "Glad you made it."

As if she'd had much of a choice. She took her place on the pad next to Kirk. "The conference doesn't start for another two hours," she informed him.

Kirk nodded. "I know. We're going to the reception. You want to meet Doctor Sato, don't you?"

"Why?" Uhura asked dryly. “You planning on introducing us?"

"Yes, actually." The smirk was back on Kirk's face and all was normal with the universe. "Energize."

They dematerialized to Kirk's delighted laugh and what was no doubt a look of complete incredulity on her own face.

Kirk hadn't been lying. After leading her through an elaborate collection of corridors, Kirk stopped at a reception desk and introduced himself as a guest of Dr Sato. The woman serving didn't so much as blink an eye before handing first Kirk, and then Uhura their passes. Uhura clipped hers onto her uniform and tried not to grin in excitement. She’d be Kirk’s plus one any day if it meant meeting her hero.

"The reception is being held in the Orchid Garden." The woman at the desk informed them, boredom clear in her voice. She was young and clearly had better ideas of how to spend her evenings than herding groups of scientists and diplomats around. "All the way down and to the left."

Kirk's best smile did nothing to bring any animation to her face. Uhura rolled her eyes at his feigned expression of hurt and herded him down the hall. They passed a large window that looked out onto the domed symposium. Beyond it were two galleries, already filled to capacity. She would have been vying for a place with half the galaxy by the looks of it.

Instead Kirk led her out into a garden strewn with lights and sweet-smelling flowers. They weren't the only representatives of Starfleet, and several officers nodded their respects as they passed.

Uhura recognized many of her personal heroes in attendance: xenolinguists who had shaped and reshaped their understanding of alien dialects and had helped mold her into the person she was today even without ever having met her.

And then the one person she wanted to see most of all.

Doctor Hoshi Sato held court in one of the orchid strewn pagodas. Nearing one hundred and thirty years of age, she stood out: a rare jewel of excellence in a room of extemporary people.

Uhura felt Kirk's hand on her elbow, gently pulling her forward. What exactly was she supposed to say? Should she even say anything at all? What would Kirk say? Why had she even agreed to this…

Sato looked up from her conversation, her gaze landing on Uhura and Kirk as they made their way across the garden. She spoke briefly to her companions before walking towards them. Without a moment’s hesitation, she folded her arms around Kirk. "Jimmy! Just look at you!"

Kirk bent himself almost double to embrace the elderly woman. "Hoshi-san!" His smile was one of the rare kind: wide and beamingly happy. "Still as beautiful as ever."

Hoshi Sato was a small woman, shorter than Uhura, and finely boned. Her pale skin was thin and papery and her hair a gleaming silver. She looked every inch her advanced age, but her dark eyes still gleamed with intelligence and kindness. She thwaped Kirk on one ear and rolled her gaze in Uhura's direction. "You have to put up with this impertinent brat on a daily basis?" She looked to Uhura, who swallowed her nerves and nodded, too dazed to take advantage of the opportunity to tease her Captain.

Kirk clutched at his chest as though wounded. "Hoshi-san, I'm hurt. I thought I was your favorite."

"You were everyone's favorite, Jimmy," Sato said fondly. "You also turned my hair grey. See?" She pointed at the neat crop of hair atop her head.

"Okay, now that's a lie. I have it on good authority that Archer was to blame for that." Kirk was a legacy, Uhura knew as much. His father's father had been in Starfleet, and his mother had come from a line of military officers stretching back to the Eugenics War. But still, the way he spoke to and of some of the greatest figures in Federation history…and he was Sato's favorite? What did that even mean?

"And whose authority was that?" Sato asked, her dark eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Kirk beamed at her. "T'Pol."

Sato cursed in Vulcan and shook her head at Kirk's laughter. "Meddling Vulcan. I hear you have your own now. Sarek's boy?"

"Commander Spock," Kirk nodded eagerly. "He keeps me in line." His expression was far friendlier than Uhura would have expected, especially in the light of some of Kirk and Spock's more recent disagreements.

"Now there's someone I'd like to meet!" Sato chuckled. She reached up and patted Kirk's cheek. "Now then, are you going to introduce me to your Lieutenant or are you just going to stand there looking pretty?"

Kirk actually blushed. "Shit. Sorry. Hoshi-san, I would very much like to introduce you to Nyota Uhura, Head Communications Officer aboard the Enterprise, linguistic genius, and the person who is going to break your record in the field." Uhura gaped at him. Sato chuckled and held out a small hand that Uhura quickly shook. Kirk continued, "Lieutenant, I am honored to introduce Doctor Hoshi Sato, whose long list of achievements you probably know better than I do, but also are unlikely to include her uncanny ability to clean house at poker."

"He's a charmer, isn't he?" Sato smiled, winking up at Kirk who grinned back at her. "Uhura. I've heard that name. You studied under Evat Jaardin at the Academy?"

"Yes ma'am," Uhura nodded. Jaardin had been a ballbreaker, but a brilliant instructor. He had been the one to recommend Nyota to Spock when her grasp of Vulcan began to outgrow his own.

"I thought so. He speaks very highly of you. You are here for the conference?"

"Captain Kirk was kind enough to grant me the leave," Uhura acknowledge, hoping that Kirk could read the appreciation in her expression.

"Yes well, he's not a complete tyrant at least."

"Hey!" Kirk protested, "I'm not any kind of tyrant. I'm positively kitten like." Kirk pouted but his eyes were bright with glee. He looked much younger when he smiled with genuine happiness, and it was clear he idolized Sato.

"He's a menace, and don't you believe otherwise," Sato sighed. She reached up to take Uhura's arm and sent Kirk off for refreshments. The Captain laughed good naturedly and asked Uhura what he could bring her before vanishing off into the crowd. "Now then, Jimmy tells me you're something of an expert when it comes to the Romulan dialects. I never really liked them much myself, far too dry…"

Kirk returned ten minutes later with a glass of wine for Uhura and a tonic water for Sato. "Now don't scowl at me, you know you're supposed to watch your blood pressure," he said, holding his hands up against the glare Sato fixed on him.

"I liked you much better when you were small enough to put over my knee," Sato shook her head, sipping at the water.

"Didn't everyone?" Kirk laughed.

"I'm sorry," Uhura cut in, her cheeks flushed from the thrill of having clashed intellects with someone whose knowledge far outstripped her own,"but how exactly do you know each other?"

"His batshit crazy mother left him and his brother with me for a few months when they were children," Sato said bluntly.

Kirk rolled his eyes. "What, like she was supposed to take us into the middle of an Orion slave trade? I was eight!"

"Wouldn't have been the first time," Sato said darkly. "You might have your daddy's eyes, Jimmy, but your crazy is all your mother's."

"You've known each other a long time, then?" Uhura broke in again gently, this time to stem the bickering before it became uncontrollable. Kirk really did have an uncanny ability to argue with anyone. It was impressive.

"We kept in touch," Kirk shrugged. "I stayed with Hoshi-san for a few months when I got back to earth." Something unspoken passed between he and Sato. There was more to the story than either of them were admitting.

"You should have stayed longer," Sato poked him in the chest. "Maybe you wouldn't have ended up in jail, hmm?"

"You were in jail?" Uhura asked in shock. She knew Kirk had a criminal record that was now sealed up tighter than an airlock, but jail was considerably more extreme than anything she'd expected.

"Twice," Sato added flatly.

"Once," Kirk protested. "The second time doesn't count."

"They locked you up, Jimmy. It counts."

Kirk rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at Uhura through his lashes. "I'd appreciate you not mentioning this to anyone on board. It's not exactly a secret, but-"

"Of course, Captain," Uhura said, feeling uncharacteristically sympathetic despite having a long held suspicion confirmed.

Sato looked between them, her eyebrows rising. She looked at her watch and then up at Kirk. "Well, I need to start getting prepared. You two had better take your seats. No heckling, Jimmy."

"No ma'am," Kirk saluted cheekily. "Shall we?" he asked Uhura, holding out one arm gallantly.

Uhura stared at it pointedly and moved forward on her own, a small smile hidden from Kirk as he sighed dramatically and jogged to catch up to her. "You wound me."

"You'll live, sir."

"I suppose," Kirk sighed.

They were caught up in the bustle of people moving into the symposium chamber when Kirk's comm. chimed. "Spock. One moment," Kirk caught her arm and led her to a quieter area of the venue so he could hear his First Officer talk. "What's going on?"

Spock's voice sounded as calm as always, but Uhura could pick up on the tension underlying the words he spoke. "Captain. We have reason to believe that-"

Spock's warning as lost as the building exploded around them.

Uhura fell to her knees as shock waves rocked the ground and the walls exploded.

She felt Kirk wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her up and close to his chest as the floor beneath them collapsed entirely, plunging them into the darkness below.

 


	2. Uhura

Uhura didn't lose consciousness as she and Kirk fell through the collapsing floor. She wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse. Despite maintaining awareness, she was unable to process much of anything other than the sound, the fear, and of Kirk's arms; strong and surprisingly protective around her. She dimly felt him curling a hand around the back of her head, sheltering her from the shower of shrapnel that rained down on them as they fell.

Their impact with the ground below seemed to take an eternity, yet the suddenness of it came jarring, knocking the breath from her lungs. Dazed and dizzy, she lay where she landed, her heartbeat loud and heavy in her ears.

The silence that followed the explosion echoed around them before screams from a distance slowly filtered their way through her faltering consciousness. In the wake of chaos, she found herself turning to Kirk and wondering when he had become her safe harbor. She'd have thought that Spock would’ve been at the forefront of her thoughts, but while she knew she her lover would always keep her safe, Spock lacked Kirk's single-minded ruthlessness that had somehow become reassuring. She might not always be safe with Kirk, but if the Captain was in her corner, she knew they could survive anything.

So, the lack of Kirk's authoritative voice was almost as much of a shock to her as the aftershocks of the explosion.

Taking a quick assessment of her condition she accounted only cuts and bruises. Despite the fall, she hadn't injured herself at all on impact.

It was with that thought at the forefront of her mind that she finally took notice of the arms that were still wrapped around her. She shifted as much as she dared, suddenly more afraid than ever.

Her lack of serious injury made sense when she took stock of Kirk's body below her, his arms holding her tucked into his chest. They weren't quite horizontal, but inclined at a slight angle that left Kirk's head thrown back, his neck bloody and flecked with debris.

For a moment she feared he was dead. Only thin slivers of his blue eyes were visible and his chest barely rose beneath her. Then suddenly he drew in a sharp inhalation, his eyes opening wide, and his arms tightening around her so suddenly it drew a gasp from her throat.

Aware that she was still sprawled over him as he struggled to draw breath, Uhura tried to wriggle out of his arms, but was thwarted by Kirk's own panic and the press of something sharp and hard digging into her side.

"Captain! Sir, Captain!" She tried to call him out of his shock, watching as consciousness came and fled from his eyes. He was struggling valiantly, but seemed to be having problems focusing on anything.

Unable to see how badly he was hurt, Uhura could only fear the worst and so reached up, her bloody, dirty hands framing his face and forcing him to focus on her. "Kirk! Kirk, come on now!"

"Uhura?" Kirk's eyes sharpened with focus and he frowned, reaching up to touch a cut on her cheek that she barely even felt. "You're hurt." The speed in which he grabbed a hold of coherency and alertness would have been intimidating if she hadn't seen him woken out of a dead sleep and launching into action thirty seconds later.

"Look who's talking." She wasn't a tearful person by nature, but the relief that swept over her with Jim's return to consciousness left her blinking rapidly against a sting in her eyes.

Now that Kirk had relinquished his hold on her, Uhura tried to move away. She gently rearranged his arms so she could see how badly he was hurt.

She had barely moved a few inches when Kirk shouted in alarm. She was dragged roughly back down against his chest, his arms over her head, and once more the earth moved beneath them.

There was nowhere further to go, but that didn't stop the rain of debris from above. The tremors lasted less than a minute, but from the sound of it the whole building seemed to come down on top of them.

She shoved roughly at Kirk's hold and tried to protect him with her own arms; furious and scared when he refused to let go. She screamed in his ear, mostly rage and fear, but he stubbornly held on.

Eventually the tremors stopped and the world fell quiet again. Kirk still refused to relax his hold on her for several long minutes and so she could do little more than lie against his chest and listen to the quick, uneven rhythm of his breathing. It sounded wet and shallow and she knew even then that there was something wrong, seriously wrong, with Jim Kirk.

As soon as she was able, she tried to move and felt her chest tighten at the small, hurt sound that escaped Kirk's lips. "I'm sorry," she choked. "I'm sorry."

"Don't." Kirk's voice was thick and echoed as he whispered so close to her ear.

Tentatively, she tried rolling to one side. Her effort was impeded by the weight of what looked like one of the supporting beams that pressed down on the small of her back. It wasn't crushing her to the point of pain, which suggested that its decent had been interrupted somehow, but she could not turn enough to see what, or how, it was resting. It was also impossible to draw in more than the shallowest of breaths as she was pressed even tighter against Kirk.

They were pinned that way. There was barely a hair's breadth between their bodies and for all she knew the entire building was just waiting to bury them both.

"Can…can you slide out?" She asked. If she braced herself, maybe Kirk could wriggle out from beneath her.

"No," Kirk said softly. "Can you?"

She shook her head hopelessly. "Maybe they can beam us out?"

"I think," Kirk's voice was completely wrecked, "that second time… I think it was an earthquake. With the seismic activity it would be too risky. They won't try unless they have no other option."

"Right." The intricacies of transport mechanics and the related physics were beyond her. She knew the basics, as all cadets did, but beyond that she was clueless. There had been one memorable morning right before Gamma shift when Kirk, Scotty and Chekov had spent a good twenty minutes gabbling together like excited children as they discussed transplanetary beaming equations. She and Sulu had been completely in the dark. It was also the first time she had seen Spock look at the captain like he was a particularly interesting science experiment. "And the first time?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Kirk's expression was grim. "That was an explosion. A sonic blast, by the sound of it." She wouldn't have been surprised if he was right. When it came to the strange and violent things they encountered in the world, Kirk usually knew what they were dealing with. It was as impressive as it was sad.

"Who in their right mind would bomb a linguistics conference?"

"Terrorist, lunatics, visionaries. Pick one," Kirk laughed and Uhura was horrified to see blood staining his mouth. "I swear your boyfriend has the shittiest timing. A minute earlier…"

Uhura found herself rising to Spock's defense as she frequently did when Kirk and he became embroiled in their intellectual pissing contests. Spock didn't need her in his corner, but it wasn't like the rest of the crew were going to side with him when they could fall behind Kirk: Jim was their golden hero; Spock occasionally made Ensigns cry. "This is not his fault." She snapped.

Kirk instantly looked contrite. "I'm not saying it was." He closed his eyes and took a slow breath that sounded like it hurt. "Fuck me, Bones will never let me off the damn ship after this."

"It's not your fault either," Uhura found herself surprised by how easy it was to attempt to reassure him. "And… thank you."

Kirk looked stunned. "For what?"

She could do nothing more than rest her arms against his and lower her head to his shoulder. "Protecting me."

"I'm your captain, Uhura. Kinda in the job description." He actually sounded insulted. And hurt. She wondered if she was imaging it, or if it was perhaps an effect of his injuries. Either way, she could not find the words to respond. Her silence clearly worried Kirk, because he spoke again. "Not that I did a great deal of good." He paused, bit his lip, then seemed to find a resolve to continue. "Are you… how bad?"

She looked up in surprise. "I'm fine. A bit bruised but it's nothing."

Pinned by those intense blue eyes, she wondered if anyone had the fortitude to lie to him, and was grateful she didn't have to. She returned his gaze with a levelness that made her own resolve strengthen.

Eventually he nodded. "Good. Ok."

A nasty thought began to form in her mind. "Captain –"

"Jim." Kirk corrected. "I can't even think about how many regs we're breaking right now, what with you using me as a pillow and all." He actually grinned at her. It was terrifying. "Calling me captain is just going to freak me out. I half expect Pike to jump out of the walls and read me the riot act."

They weren't breaking any regs at all, and she was sure he knew that. She went along with him regardless. "Jim. You're hurt, aren't you?"

Kirk looked at her levelly. She could see the battle in his eyes and wondered what it would cost him to be honest with her. Men like Jim Kirk didn’t allow themselves to be vulnerable.

So, when he exhaled softly, blood bubbling on his lip, she knew it was bad. "I don't think I'm going anywhere for a while."

Uhura's breath caught in her throat. Suddenly she remembered the sharp press of something hard against her side when she had tried to roll off Kirk before the second tremor.

With fear and nausea rising in her gut, Uhura wiggled one of her arms down until she could press her fingers between their bodies.

For all that he was broad-shouldered, Kirk was surpisingly narrow at both the hips and the waist. There wasn't a huge amount of space between them, even with the curve of her own body. Barely half an inch from her side she felt the solid metal spoke of a floor support, bent by the collapse and impact of the ground, and angled upright.

Directly through the side of Kirk's chest.

Her breath caught in terror as she understood exactly how perilous their situation was.

She couldn't move to give him the space to draw more than a shallow breath. He could not move at all. Eventually, they would both suffocate.

And if, by some miracle, Uhura was able to squirm free without bringing the entire building down on top of Kirk, there was no way he was going anywhere. From her tentative probing she could feel exactly where the spoke had penetrated Kirk's body and the blood on his lips made a horrifying sense.

If he stayed as he was he would slowly, and painfully, drown in his own blood.

If Uhura was able to move him, or if they were beamed out, he would bleed to death in minutes.

This time the tears were uncontrollable and her voice caught in her throat. "Oh god… Jim."

"Hey," Kirk soothed with increasing difficulty. "It’ll be ok. Spock will find us and there's no way he'll let me die if it means missing out on a chance to glare at me. And even if he did," Kirk smiled in a broken, reassuring way that made him look terrifyingly young, "Bones’d bring me back just to lecture me to death. We'll be fine."

And damn her to hell and back, but she believed him.

 


	3. Uhura

"You know, it figured this would happen." Uhura raised her cheek from Kirk's shoulder and looked up across the planes of his pale face. Her uniform had started to become sticky with his blood and his skin was clammy under her hands.

It had been nearly an hour since the first explosion. An hour in which she'd established the dire predicament that they were in almost as quickly as the knowledge that there would be no quick fix. Attempts to comm. The  _Enterprise_ had failed, resulting only in Kirk almost losing consciousness again as she tried to recalibrate his communicator. They were on their own.

To add insult to injury, the building's sprinkler system had kicked in shortly after the second tremor, soaking them both to the bone.

"Why's that?" She asked, trying to dislodge the strands of her hair that clung to the side of his face.

"This was supposed to be a peace offering," Kirk's chest rattled as he laughed. "I always did suck at diplomacy."

For a man who was so effortlessly arrogant, Kirk could be blind to his own achievements. She’d been with him on Axanar Prime when they were both still cadets, and the Palm Leaf of Axanar Peace Mission was still pinned to the chest of his dress uniform. He didn’t get it by punching people. It was perplexing, trying to understand a man who was completely confident in his own ability but not in his worth.

"You're not so bad," Uhura reassured him. "But why exactly did I need a peace offering?" She and Kirk probably couldn’t be classed as friends, but there wasn't anywhere near the level of animosity between them that there once had been.

"Since I spent three years hitting on you and I'm now your commanding officer?" Kirk said, frowning. "And wow, I realize that this really wasn't how I wanted to have the whole 'I swear I'm not going to sexually harass you' speech."

Uhura couldn't help the bubble of hysterical laughter that rose up from her gut. "Given that your drunken attempt to get into my pants is what got you dragged into Starfleet in the first place, I think we can probably just accept the fact that you're a lecherous jerk and move on."

She'd meant it as a joke and was mortified when Kirk's expression fell even further. Before she could clarify, he was tripping over his words in his haste to express himself.

"I'm not. Well, I am, but not like that. I wouldn't  _ever_  abuse my authority in that way."

Her jaw fell open as she studied the truth of his words on his face. Of course she knew that. She'd never once had a second's doubt, even back in the Academy, that Kirk had any intention of acting on his comments. Kirk still flirted with her because he was Kirk and she had started to guess that he genuinely didn't know how to talk to a woman without some form of innuendo. She'd known right from the moment he sat down opposite her on the shuttle out of Iowa, beaten to hell and still looking far more at ease than the rest of her class. Their meeting defined their relationship to some extent, but they had both chosen to continue interacting that way long after Kirk hooked up with Galia and she herself found Spock. It was as much a part of their relationship as Kirk and McCoy's bickering, or the passive aggressive sarcasm he shared with Spock. It didn't actually  _mean_  anything more.

She thought Kirk got that, but apparently not. Here he was, bleeding to death with his arms wrapped around her, their bodies forced together in a way that was more intimate than any embrace she could recall sharing with a man she wasn't sleeping with, and he was genuinely concerned about taking advantage of her.

The emotions that rolled in her head came and went too quickly to define, but ultimately, they settled on one, wholly unexpected sensation: amusement. "You brought me down to a beautiful symposium to an event I'd have killed to attend and introduced me to my childhood hero before plying me with wine and walking me though a candlelit garden… to assure me you were in no way intending to pursue your former – seriously inappropriate – interactions with me?"

Kirk looked like she'd slapped him with a wet fish. His jaw opened and closed silently in shock and would have been far funnier if his teeth hadn't been stained by blood. "When you put it like that, I might have miscalculated."

"You really have never tried to seduce a woman, have you?" Uhura rolled her eyes as Kirk blushed.

"Never really had to."

"That's right. Bat those big blue eyes at us and we fall over ourselves."

Twin spots of pink colored Kirk's cheeks, making him look almost healthy, and not as if he was hemorrhaging beneath her. "I wouldn't go that-"

"Uh huh," Uhura was enjoying herself now. "And what about Gaila? I know for a fact she was obsessed with human courtship rituals."

Kirk's expression fell and his eyes glazed over. "Not with me. Gaila and I… it wasn't like that."

"You mean to tell me you guys weren't…"

"Oh we were," Kirk's head nodded minutely. "Just. We understood each other, I guess."

She wondered if Kirk had loved her former roommate.

She knew without a doubt that Gaila could’ve loved Kirk.

She was starting to think she might be able to love him as well.

Suddenly all the humor she had felt vanished as quickly as it appeared. She pressed her cheek back to his shoulder, hating how helpless they were.

They lapsed into silence. Only the shallow, uneven rate of Kirk's breathing kept them company. It wasn't until Kirk's tight grip on her waist started to loosen that she jolted back in concern. "Kir- Jim?"

"Hmm?" Kirk's eyes were barely opening as he tried to focus on her.

"Stay awake."

"I'm awake," Kirk promised tiredly. His eyes closed again. Uhura nudged his thigh with her knee, hating herself for the tight choke of pain that he made as it jarred his body.

"You're not. You have a head injury. I know you've had enough of those to know the drill by now."

"Bones' hypo," Kirk mumbled. "So many hypos."

"That's right. So, you should stay awake. Otherwise he'll hypo you forever."

Kirk muttered something very unflattering about McCoy but his lips curled into a smile.

"Will anyway."

"True. Okay, tell me about your time in jail then. What were you there for?"

She knew at once she'd put her foot in her mouth. There was a storm cloud rolling in those blue eyes and Kirk’s mouth formed a tight, unhappy line. Despite that, she couldn't regret asking, not if it kept him conscious enough to be angry with her.

"Or you could tell me more about Dr Sato?" she suggested. "Do you think she'll be okay?"

Kirk's eyes cleared. "Hoshi-san? She's probably figured out who is behind all this and is lecturing them into an early grave. That woman survived a hostile universe at the side of a man who makes me look high-strung and a Vulcan who could teach Spock a thing or two about dry sarcasm. She'll be fine." If Kirk was worried his expression did not betray him.

Mentions of Spock made her shiver. She missed him.

Uhura had never been a woman who needed a man to do anything, yet just having him beside her made her feel a hundred times stronger than she could ever be alone. "Do you think they'll find us in time?"

"We're talking about Spock here. I'll put credits on him breaking down the walls with his bare fists and those crazy eyebrows of his. He'd never let anything happen to you." Kirk sounded so certain.

"Or you," Uhura said softly, reading the omission in his words.

"Yes, well. There's a lot of paperwork to file if I die."

"You aren't going to die, Jim," she swore.

"Of course not," Kirk agreed easily enough. He was lying to her.

The nonchalant whimsy of his words made something inside her strengthen and solidify. "You are not going to die," she ordered. "We're getting out of here."

"What, now?" Kirk blinked slowly, once again struggling in the battle with his own consciousness.

"Right now. Man up, Kirk. You're bleeding internally and terrorists just gatecrashed your peace offering."

"They did," Kirk said slowly. "And I guess I am. That's not cool."

"Damn right it isn't," she urged. "So, what do you plan on doing about it,  _Captain?_ "

"You're so bossy," Kirk whined. "And awesome. Have I mentioned that you're awesome recently?"

"Not today," Uhura grinned. "Now then, what's the plan?"

 


	4. Spock

Spock had handed control of the conn. over to his Alpha shift relief when the alert came through. Gamma had passed without event: the crew efficient and conscientious as always under his watch. He had noticed a marked absence of frivolous banter during the watches he oversaw in comparison to those in which the Captain was present. Kirk actively encouraged his crew to be relaxed and informal. It had been a long point of conflict between them both. As of yet, Spock did not have enough data to support either approach, and so allowed the two differing styles to continue operating simultaneously.

There was no rhyme or reason that dictated which of his designated allotment of shifts Kirk would oversee on the bridge. He, like Spock, was on call for one duty shift out of three, on the bridge for a second, and at his leisure for the third. Kirk usually took Alpha shift, but he was known to change his routine in order to spend time with various departments around the ship.

Spock encouraged it. Kirk had relatively little experience on a ship operating in deep space, having graduated early and before completing his final assessments in the field. Kirk himself seemed to be aware of this and compensated by spending several hours a day in the bowels of the  _Enterprise_ , getting to know her from the nacelles up.

Kirk had been on Alpha that day, his relief a vastly experienced officer who by all rights should be First Officer on another ship, if not for the fact that his wife had recently been promoted to acting head of Xenobotony. Lt Commander Finney seemed content with his current role in order to stay posted with his spouse.

Kirk had then been on call for the shift following, during which most of his time was divided between conferring with Command in regards to the refits the ship was currently undergoing, and helping implement them. Spock had been surprised to learn that Kirk's secondary focus at the Academy had been Engineering.

He had been even more surprised to learn that Kirk had taken so many extra credits that he'd almost accrued enough to graduate with a second minor in computer programming, or he had been, at least until he recalled the debacle of the Koboyashi Maru.

In order to maintain a pleasant working environment with his superior officer, Spock did not dwell on that encounter more than strictly necessary.

He did not, in fact, spend much time in Kirk's company at all unless business demanded he do so. Past evidence suggested that prolonged exposure to each other’s company ended poorly for them both.

It was why he had not objected when Kirk had informed him that he was taking Nyota down to the conference on the Io Symposium in order to meet Doctor Hoshi Sato.

Within seconds of being called back on to the bridge, he wished he had.

"You are certain, Lieutenant?" The young man currently sat in Uhura's station nodded seriously, the report from Starfleet clear on the monitor in front of him.

"Aye sir."

"Contact the captain," Spock demanded.

Being pulled back on duty was never pleasant, but arriving on deck to learn that one's Captain was currently attending a conference that was under terrorist threat made even Spock's nerves shorten drastically.

Command had sent the missive through Priority One, which demanded the Captain's attention. Spock would have recalled him even if the message had not been of the nature it was.

"Patching now, sir."

"Spock!" Kirk's voice come through loud and with significant background noise. "One moment." Spock stared impatiently at the blank view screen for the few seconds it took Kirk to find a quieter spot. "What's going on?"

"Captain," Spock jumped right to the most relevant information. "We have reason to believe-"

His warning was cut short by the shattering explosion that ripped through the comm. before killing the connection dead. There was a moment of shocked, horrified silence on the bridge before everyone hurled themselves into a flurry of activity.

"Report," Spock demanded with a calm he didn't feel, settling into the chair and surveying the rush of activity that had exploded around them.

"Telemetry sensors picking up violent seismic activity on Io's surface, Commander," Spock was fortunate in that both Chekov and Sulu were on duty, as the two men worked seamlessly together.

"Looks like it's induced, Commander," His own cover at the science station informed him. "We're getting reports of an explosion on the surface. Early insights suggest sonic but we're still waiting on ground reports to confirm."

"The Captain isn't responding to attempts to comm. him, sir," the Communication's Officer informed him calmly. "I'll keep trying."

It was protocol to recall the Captain in such situations, but Spock felt unusually calm when he reported, "Captain Kirk is currently on the surface attending a conference with Lieutenant Uhura. Make attempts to establish communications with her as well."

"Aye sir."

Spock called Engineering and pulled Scott away from his repairs long enough to demand a shuttle be prepped ready to transport to the surface of the moon. He also requested all available power be transferred to stabilizing the transporter bay, should it be required.

"Still nothing," Spock was informed after finishing with Scott. "His comm. is unresponsive and I can't get a pin on his location."

"I can't get a pin on  _anyone's_  location," Chekov said, frustrated. "They’re blocking us sir. I don't know how."

Spock knew Chekov would already by working on a solution and left him to it without interruption. It apparently was not his expected behavior, as he and Sulu shared a concerned glance before the doors to the bridge slid open and Doctor McCoy stormed in. "What the hell happened? Jim's vitals just went completely off the charts."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Does the Captain know you are keeping illegal tabs on his welfare?"

"Of course he damn well doesn't," McCoy said with his usual explosion of energy and derision. "Damn fool wants privacy, he can stop getting himself into these situations. Now what the hell is his excuse this time? He's hemorrhaging like a stuck pig and his adrenaline levels have hit all-time highs."

"I can't get through to either of them, sir. Something is blocking our comms."

"Attempt to establish contact with the other vessels in dock," Spock ordered. "I want to know if we are the only ones experiencing issues."

"Aye Commander."

Turning back to McCoy, Spock pushed for more information. "Can you tell me anything else about the Captain's condition?"

McCoy ran a hand over his face, a sure signal of distress. "Not without a visual. Can't you just beam them back to the ship?"

Spock shook his head. "The seismic activity currently being experienced on the surface makes it very unwise to do so, especially when we are unable to establish communication with either Captain Kirk or Lieutenant Uhura."

He refused to think of her as Nyota. To do so would remove from him the ability to act rationally, and with Kirk also in danger there was no one else on whom the responsibility could fall.

"Then get a shuttle down there!" McCoy snapped. He waved a PADD full of numbers under Spock's nose, giving him barely enough time to read more than the Captain's name and his alarmingly low blood pressure.

"That might be our only-"

"No one is responding to our hails," Comms informed him. "No, wait. Sir, I have incoming on 107.1." The lieutenant looked completely bemused and Spock understood why. 107.1 was a communications channel that had long ago been rendered obsolete by technology, and was only ever used to transmit training orders.

"On screen," Spock said, feeling his unease reflected on the doctor's face.

As ordered, an image formed. A single face, blank of all emotion, filled the screen.

"This is Acting Captain Spock of the USS Enterprise. To whom am I speaking?" with Kirk unable to respond to comms for whatever reason, command fell to Spock. The ship could never be without a captain.

"My name is not important." The face, male and young, spoke without inflection or accent. It remained natural. "By now you are aware of the explosion that recently disabled the environmental controls of the Io Space Symposium. You are also aware, I am certain, of the number of Starfleet officers currently in attendance. Seven minutes after the explosion, a team of highly trained operatives stormed the facility, taking all in attendance hostage. You will convey our wishes to your Command or I will execute one civilian and one member of Starfleet on the hour, every hour."

"I will do nothing until I have assurances that the hostages are unharmed," Spock said coolly.

"You’ll get none. As I am certain your communications officer will tell you, this channel is openly accessible to anyone who has the correct frequency. That frequency is currently being transmitted to news agencies across the system. Unless you want the entire Federation to see me spilling blood, I recommend you do as I ask."

Spock did not need confirmation that the channel was indeed accessible to those outside Starfleet. It was the main reason it had been put out of use thirty years prior.

"Your wishes are what, exactly?"

The man's expression remained cool and impassive as he spoke. "Earth will leave the Federation. All species not native will leave the atmosphere within forty-eight hours and a Delphic Expanse will be created to actively discourage alien advances on our home." The words were delivered as if perfectly reasonable and not both absurd and impossible.

"You've got to be kidding," McCoy spluttered. "You're crazy."

Spock ignored the doctor's interference, his gaze fixed on the man who was currently demanding that his people lose the one safe haven they had left. He stood and clasped his hands behind his back to stop them shaking with rage.

"Starfleet does not negotiate with terrorists," Spock informed him, his voice as void of inflection as was possible.

The man's face suddenly twisted into something ugly and filled with rage. The true image of their adversary. "Now that's not entirely true, is it?" Spock did not know how to answer. "Pass my message along. I want personal confirmation that Admiral Marcus is making it a reality, or I am going to start traumatizing the general public. You have one hour."

The connection was killed and the screen went blank.

Mutters rippled through the gathered officers as they tried to find logic in the man's insane requests.

"Mr Chekov, bring up that man's profile. I want to know who he is."

"Aye sir. I'll run biometrics now." Chekov was already tapping away furiously at his console. A second later, a freeze frame of their unnamed adversary filled the screen.

The man was classically good looking. His hair was golden blond and worn in a tight military cut. His bone structure was symmetrical, a common feature in humans considered attractive, and his eyes were a deep, dark blue. A shade or two lighter and he'd almost look like…

Spock didn't need to reach his hypothesis before McCoy arrived at a similar conclusion. The doctor's face became suddenly very pale as foul language fell from his tongue.

"You know who that man is," he concluded, feeling the first twinges of real concern stir. Overly emotional McCoy might be, but he possessed a solid constitution and very little rattled him.

"It can't be," McCoy breathed. "It's not possible."

"Perhaps you can enlighten us, Doctor?" Spock pushed. They did not have the luxury of time and the rest of the crew were all fixed on them, waiting for answers.

McCoy nodded jerkily before settling his nerves and straightening his back. "I'd need to run a blood test to be one hundred percent certain, but I'll bet my medical license on it, though I have no damn clue how it's possible since he's supposed to be dead."

"Doctor McCoy, please." Spock felt his patience slip. Kirk would already have scolded his friend and they would already have their conclusion. Spock lacked that ability to handle the doctor with the most expedient of care.

McCoy stared at the screen in dawning horror. "Sam Kirk. That's George Samuel Kirk. Jim's brother."

 


	5. Uhura

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for not posting this over the weekend! Hubby's birthday took us out of town!

The string of curses Jim Kirk could pull together was truly impressive. Uhura felt the linguist in herself sit up and nod in respect at the eloquent - not to mention exotic - flow of foul language streaming from Kirk's mouth as he strained to raise the fallen strut long enough for her to squirm out from beneath it.

She'd have complimented him on his syntax, but all her energy was focused on hauling her body the few inches she needed to free herself from the debris.

Kirk ended his tirade on an emphatic, " _fuck_!", his shoulders trembling and his whole body seized tight with the strain of the immense weight. That final explosion of emotion and energy was enough to raise the strut a fraction higher, and she wriggled furiously until she was free. Crouching by Kirk's side, she wrapped her arms over his head as he lost his grip and the strut fell once again.

There was a brief moment when she feared it would dislodge complete and crush Kirk, but it settled in its former position, and, but for a slight tremble, remained in place.

Now there was the space, Kirk could draw in a deep, shuddering breath and she could clearly see the damage he had taken by protecting her in the fall.

The metal spoke had entered his chest just left of his sternum. It was low enough that she hoped it had only nicked his lung instead of compromising it entirely, but the jagged metal was almost half an inch in diameter.

Kirk had enough room now that he could theoretically raise himself from his position and follow her, but he knew as well as she that the cause of his injury was also the only thing keeping him from bleeding to death.

Kirk panted harshly in her ear as he struggled to regain his composure, and Uhura found herself combing fingers through his sweaty hair.

Eventually he regained his voice. "Ow."

"Yeah," Uhura said sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Kirk said. "It worked. You're out."

"You're not."

"That wasn't the plan,” Kirk said firmly. He couldn't meet her eyes from his position, but she had a clear view of his face and could already see the sickly gray tinge to his skin starting to spread.

"There was a plan?"

"Of course!" Kirk looked momentarily indignant and she smiled indulgently. "I always have a plan. Sometimes they suck, but they do exist."

"And this plan?" She asked. "Does it suck?"

"I never usually know until after," Kirk admitted. "Let's go with no."

"Optimistic?"

"Or, you know, delirious. Whichever works for you."

The light banter became hard to maintain as she forced herself to stop petting Kirk's hair. She was free, and she had a job to do.

But god, she hated it. "I'll come back, Jim. I promise." She wasn’t going to leave him to die alone. "I'll bring Doctor McCoy back with me."

"Hmm," Kirk agreed absently.

Uhura bit her lip. He was bad. Really bad. It was her job to go in search of help, but the decision did not sit easily in her gut. There had never been a time in her life when her personal desires had conflicted quite so badly with her professional duties. She wondered if this was what her instructors had been trying to convey in their lessons back at the Academy.

Sometimes she could hardly believe that had only been nine months ago. Such a short amount of time, and yet everything in her life had changed.

The man she was potentially leaving to die here alone in the dark was her friend now. She'd never have believed it possible a year ago.

Kirk had started to shiver. The effort he had exerted to help her escape had clearly been the last reserves he had to spare. Already he was declining at a pace far more rapid than he had been before and the panic began to claw at Uhura's throat.

"I'll be back." She tried to put every ounce of conviction she had into those few words, jealous of the way Kirk could so effortlessly reassure those around him when it was she who was supposed to be the master of language.

Kirk didn't respond this time.

Uhura wriggled out of her dress jacket and bundled it into a wad. The thin wool of her undershirt was not enough to stave off the chill but she carefully lifted Kirk's head so she could ease the jacket between him and the ground. He moaned faintly as her fingers pressed against the back of his skull and tears flooded her eyes.

"I'll be back," She said once again, raising to her bruised knees and pausing only to brush her fingers over the side of Kirk's face once more.

She kissed his cheek and struggled to her feet.

It wasn't an appropriate way to leave her commanding officer, but then nothing about Jim Kirk was ever by the book.

Knowing she was very likely leaving him to his death if she wasn't successful, Uhura gathered her strength and hitched the stiff dress skirt up above her knees so she could begin the difficult climb back up to the surface.

 


End file.
